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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23106421">waiting around to die</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldiesox/pseuds/goldiesox'>goldiesox</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, COVID-19, Coronavirus, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Hypochondriac Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Married Couple, Panic Attacks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:42:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23106421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldiesox/pseuds/goldiesox</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"600 bottles of Purell, 140 boxes of N95 face masks, 100 boxes of Kleenex, 100 cans of red beans, 100 cans of chicken noodle soup, 200 cans of split pea soup, 120 cases of FIJI water - Eds did you start planning for the apocalypse and forget to tell me!?"</p><p>"I mean, yeah basically," Eddie says, shrugging. "Haven't you been watching the news?"</p><p>He grabs the receipt from Richie and steps into their drive away to count all the boxes.</p><p>"No," Richie says. He hasn't watched the news since 2012.</p><p>"Coronavirus, Richie."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>184</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>waiting around to die</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm immunocompromised and locked in my house so this is my coping mechanism. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eddie spends three days in the house before Richie notices.</p><p>"Don't you have to go into the office?" Richie asks. He's not complaining, he can't with Eddie in his too-short shorts and a sleep rumpled tee, emblazoned with the logo of Richie's 2009 Comedy Tour, but he is curious. Eddie is a notorious workaholic. He didn't even use his vacation days until he moved down to California, first into Richie's house and then his bed.</p><p>"I'm just working remotely for a few days," Eddie says, listlessly scrolling through his emails. "Why?"</p><p>"Mmm, nothing. I just like it," Richie says, leaning over to kiss the soft top of Eddie's head. He smells like Richie's cheap shampoo, and that shouldn't make him hard, but it does. "Having you home."</p><p>Eddie leans up to kiss him on the mouth but stops, like he's just remembered something.</p><p>"Brush your teeth first," he whispers against his lips, before ducking and kissing the hard square line of Richie's jaw.</p><p>Richie groans but does as he's told, leaving Eddie with a parting slap on the ass as he goes.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It's not unusual, Eddie asking Richie to brush his teeth. He's less finicky than he was as a kid, always screaming about germs and gagging into the crook of his elbow, but he's still Eddie. He still shudders when Richie talks with his mouth full and refuses to kiss him after he's sucked dick, amongst other things.</p><p>But then shit starts to get weird.</p><p>After the fifth day of Eddie 'working remotely' all of Richie's clothes disappear.</p><p>"What the fuck?" Richie says, when he sees it. His entire walk in closet is empty, probably emptier than it was when he bought the damn place.</p><p>
  <em>Did we get robbed?</em>
</p><p>"Hey Eds," Richie calls out, heading downstairs in nothing but a pair of boxers, "What the hell happened to..."</p><p>He trails off, distracted by miles of freckled tan skin, and Eddie's perky ass on all fours in their kitchen, his head hidden under the table. Eddie's naked too, only wearing a pair of tight smedium Under Armour briefs. Eddie's ABBA playlist overlays the entire scene and it's so surreal, Richie feels like he's in a simulation.</p><p>"Am I dreaming?" Richie asks.</p><p>"Yes! I am cleaning!" Eddie screams, before wriggling out from under the table.</p><p>His hair is soft and unstyled, a stray hair stuck to his sweaty brow. It's looked like that for almost a week now, with Eddie's extended stint working from home.</p><p>"You got a..." Richie says, his brain working slowly to catch up with his mouth. He reaches out to brush the curl out of Eddie's face.</p><p>"Oh, thanks," Eddie pushes it back himself, and all the blood in Richie's body rushes away from his brain.</p><p>"What are you doing?" Richie asks.</p><p>"Cleaning the kitchen tiles? Why?" Eddie says, cocking his head like Richie is the one that's crazy.</p><p>"Cleaning our kitchen tiles...in your underwear," Richie says. "I'm not complaining but it's not my birthday, Eds."</p><p>"Shut up," Eddie snaps, "I sent our clothes out to be dry cleaned."</p><p>"Yeah, that was kinda hard to miss," Richie says, dryly, gesturing to both of their bare chests. "But all of them? At once? I mean, I don't mind living all easy and breezy but there isn't even a sock left in my closet, dude. And they weren't even dirty!"</p><p>Eddie rolls his eyes. "They're your clothes, they were definitely dirty. And It's not like you wear clothes around the house anyway, Rich. Our clothes will be delivered tomorrow, just go back to bed and don't sit on any of the floors, couches, stools, or chairs." Eddie counts each thing with a lowered finger, like it's no big deal.</p><p>"You stole all my clothes and now I'm not allowed to sit on furniture in my own house!? Screw that, man."</p><p>Richie tries to sit on a kitchen stool but Eddie wrenches it away from him and yells, "Ahhht, Ahhht!"</p><p>"What!?" Richie yells, "What is even going on here!? Give me back my stool, Eds!"</p><p>They wrestle over it like children and it's not the first time Richie is grateful their house is on a huge hill, too high for most Paparazzi to see a thing.</p><p>"No, you'll get your germs on it!" Eddie yells.</p><p>"That didn't seem to be a problem for you last week!"</p><p>"Oh, fuck you, asshole." Eddie tricks Richie into letting go by letting go first, and then wrenching it out of his grasp, and under his arm.</p><p>"If you put your bare ass on anything in this house," Eddie says, "I will know. And I will kill you. Go back to bed, Rich."</p><p>He grabs the other kitchen stool for good measure and heads down the hall, presumably to hide them from Richie.</p><p>Richie considers sitting down at the kitchen table, but decides against it. He doesn't know how, but he really believes Eddie would somehow know and (probably) kill him.</p><p>Instead, he opts for eating his usual bowl of Coco Pops in bed.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>On the seventh day of Eddie 'working remotely' Richie finds out what the hell is going on.</p><p>Not from Eddie, but from the gargantuan Amazon Prime delivery that arrives at their door.</p><p>"What. the. fuck," Richie says.</p><p>"Yeah, this is for me," Eddie says, curtly, "Edward Tozier."</p><p>"Okay cool," the teenager says, "We don't usually need people to sign but considering the size of the package..." he extends the touch screen terminal and the stylus but Eddie doesn't move to take it.</p><p>"Richie," Eddie elbows him, "Sign for it."</p><p>"What? Why?" Richie asks, "It's your package." He resists the urge to grab his own package and make a dirty joke, for the kid's sake.</p><p>"Can you just do it!?" Eddie whisper-yells, nudging him again.</p><p>"Okay, okay, Jesus."</p><p>Richie takes the terminal and signs the screen before handing it back to the teenager.</p><p>"All good then?" he asks.</p><p>"Yup, I'll uh, unload the rest of it into your driveway."</p><p>"What there's more!?"</p><p>It takes so long Richie has to sit on the porch to watch, Eddie standing next to him, tapping his foot impatiently the entire time.</p><p>The boxes fill the driveway all the way from their garage door to the street.</p><p>Richie reads through the receipt the kid had given him, incredulous.</p><p>"600 bottles of Purell, 140 boxes of N95 face masks, 100 boxes of Kleenex, 100 cans of red beans, 100 cans of chicken noodle soup, 200 cans of split pea soup, 120 cases of FIJI water - Eds did you start planning for the apocalypse and forget to tell me!?"</p><p>"I mean, yeah basically," Eddie says, shrugging. "Haven't you been watching the news?"</p><p>He grabs the receipt from Richie and steps into their drive away to count the boxes.</p><p>"No," Richie says. He hasn't watched the news since 2012.</p><p>"Coronavirus, Richie."</p><p>"Oh my God," Richie says, Eddie's recent neurotic behaviour starting to make more sense.</p><p>"What?" Eddie says, looking up, "Oh my God, what?"</p><p>"You seriously bought all this shit because of coronavirus?" Richie wants to laugh but he think if he does Eddie might sock him in the stomach.</p><p>"Do not do that. Do not look at me with that...face on your face!" Eddie yells.</p><p>"What? I just asked a question, Eddie. Did you seriously buy all this stuff because of coronavirus? You do realize we live in California, right? Not China?"</p><p>"Wow," Eddie says, "You know, it amazes me how you manage to have the highest IQ amongst our friends but still manage to be this fucking stupid."</p><p>Eddie shoulders past Richie and into the house, towards the TV, turning it on. He flips through every single channel to make a point. It's all coronavirus, coronavirus, coronavirus.</p><p>And this is why Richie sticks to Netflix and HBO.</p><p>"We are literally under a health warning, dumbass. People are fucking dying! Everywhere, not just 'in China'." Eddie is using air quotes now so Richie knows he's pissed.</p><p>"Ok..." Richie scrambles trying to think of any information he's retained about this thing, "Look, I get it. You're freaked out. I mean, when I found out Coachella was moved to October because of this, I was stressed too. But it's just a lot of fuss over nothing, this is just like...SARS and - what? What did I say?"</p><p>Eddie is strangling air like he wants to strangle him.</p><p>"Coachella," Eddie says, "You get it and people are dying but you're stressed about Coachella."</p><p>"It is the best time of the year, Eds."</p><p>"Fuck," Eddie says, "I cannot stand Californians!"</p><p>Richie is touched for a moment, that Eddie considers him a Californian. He usually makes a point to constantly remind Richie they're from New England.</p><p>He reaches out to get his hands on him, but Eddie screams and steps back like he's been shot.</p><p>"Hands! Bathroom! Now!" Eddie says, "God knows what was on that terminal."</p><p>Eddie looks down at himself and shudders, even though he hadn't touched the terminal or the kid at all.</p><p>"Actually...I think I need to take a shower," Eddie says, even though he's just taken one. "Unload the boxes and then wash your hands after, for God's sake."</p><p>Eddie disappears up the stairs, the loud thumps letting Richie knows he's climbing two steps at a time in his haste to get into the shower.</p><p>
  <em>Well, fuck.</em>
</p><p>Richie sighs and heads back outside.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>On the tenth day of Eddie 'working remotely' Richie starts to get <em>bothered</em>.</p><p>Eddie hasn't left the house in nearly two weeks and Richie isn't even sure he has a job anymore, though Eddie keeps assuring him he does.</p><p>Richie doesn't see how he can when he spends all day and every day cleaning their house, himself or Richie. It reminds Richie of when they were younger, when Eddie would spiral into paranoia over the tiniest things until his compulsions drove him and everyone else up the wall. He's grown and changed so much since then, it makes Richie worried, seeing him fall back into old patterns.</p><p>It's turned their house into a sterile quarantine zone, Eddie placing no less than six Purell bottles in every room and screaming like a police siren if Richie even tries to touch him without confirming his wash status. Eddie won't even let him leave the house without wearing a N95 face mask (That he immediately rips off as soon as he's in his car, not that he'd ever tell Eddie that.). Both things have completely ruined their sex life and by extension, Richie's life. He doesn't care how serious coronavirus is, he refuses to fuck Eddie wearing a face mask like a fucking serial killer - he just won't do it.</p><p>So he does a lot of research, reading every single Reddit thread and article on coronavirus, looking for something, anything that will reassure Eddie. Not enough to go back to work, but at least enough to get him to stop fucking cleaning.</p><p>He learns that most people don't die from it, unless they're old or already sick. (They're old as fuck so Richie nixes telling Eddie that.)</p><p>He learns that most people survive, but the people that do are left with permanent lung damage. (He nixes that one too. Eddie already has way too much anxiety about his lungs, even years after finding out he isn't a real asthmatic.)</p><p>The case numbers sounds promising so he starts with that.</p><p>"There are only 157 cases of coronavirus in California!" Richie says, shoving his iPhone in Eddie's face so he can see the title of the article.</p><p>"That's 157 cases too many," Eddie says, not even looking at his phone as he wipes the counter down for the third time today. Then he spins on his heel so they're standing toe to toe. "And you do realize we have the most cases in the country right? What is wrong with you? Why the hell would you think that would make me feel better!?"</p><p>He's breathing fast, in a way Richie knows. His eyes dart around the kitchen, searching for the phantom inhaler they burnt back in Neibolt, before remembering himself and stopping.</p><p><em>Old habits die hard</em>, Richie thinks.</p><p>"Hey, I just thought it would calm you down because that's a couple thousand less than Italy," Richie says, running his hands down Eddie's shoulders until they settle on his trim waist.</p><p>"You can't trust those numbers anyway," Eddie says, his head a mile away, not even listening to what Richie's saying, "Do you know how expensive it is to test for coronavirus with our shitty healthcare system? In Korea they have drive through tests - drive through tests, Richie! And their numbers are in the thousands. Ours are definitely unreported. Fuck, there are probably thousands of people with coronavirus right here in California."</p><p>Eddie is working himself up so fast it's making him nervous. Richie rubs circles into the curve of his hip, trying to calm him down.</p><p>"I hear you but you gotta relax, Eds."</p><p>"Do not tell me to relax, Richie. I'm very relaxed."</p><p>Eddie throws the dishrag into the sink so hard, it sounds like a slap.</p><p>Richie watches him, dubious.</p><p>"Come on, man, you have the immune system of an Olympian," Richie says, chasing Eddie down the hall where he's started to spray Lysol on everything. First on the floorboards and then on the base trim.</p><p>"You taught me about fruits I didn't even know existed! You're the healthiest person I know. Fuck, I'm healthier just from being around you. You're not gonna catch a stupid virus just by stepping outside."</p><p>"I didn't teach you anything, I <em>bought</em> you a dragon fruit smoothie two years ago," Eddie stresses. "And it's appalling that you didn't know what a dragon fruit was at your big age." His face is all scrunched up, but he still looks pleased, like being complimented on his immune system is better than any of the compliments Richie's ever paid him.</p><p>"Eddie." Richie spins in front of him, nicking the Lysol from his hands and holding it over his head.</p><p>"Richie," Eddie says, staring up at him, arms crossed, "Give me back my Lysol."</p><p>"No, because you don't need it," Richie says. "And you've done enough cleaning for...honestly I don't think the house has been this clean in years and we literally have a cleaning service."</p><p>"Not anymore we don't," Eddie says.</p><p>Richie's brow furrows, confused.</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"I told Roberta we won't be needing her for awhile," Eddie says, with a shrug, "We can't have people trekking God knows what into our home, Rich. Especially when I can do it myself."</p><p>Richie's mouth falls open in shock.</p><p>"You fired Roberta over coronavirus!?"</p><p>"Oh my God!" Eddie yells, "You are such a drama queen - I did not fire her! I told her we wouldn't be needing her services for the foreseeable future."</p><p>"That's called firing, Eds!" Richie yells back, "Oh my God." Richie lets his head fall into his hands, "She was going to teach me how to make tamales on Friday. I'm friends with her daughter on Facebook!"</p><p>"So you think we should risk our lives because you're friends with Roberta's daughter on Facebook?" Eddie asks, "Is that what you're saying to me, Richard?"</p><p>"Risk our lives-" Richie laughs, "And I'm the drama queen? More people die from the flu every year, Eddie."</p><p>The only reason he even knows that is because of all the coronavirus articles he's been reading to comfort Eddie, but he doesn't look impressed.</p><p>He just raises his eyebrows, waiting for Richie to fuck up.</p><p>This is exactly the kind of rhetorical question that ends with him blue balled and Eddie aggressively pretending he doesn't exist if he doesn't give him the answer that he wants.</p><p>"Uh...no?" Richie finally says.</p><p>Eddie leans in and whispers, "Good," before jumping and stealing the bottle of Lysol from Richie.</p><p>"Wow, that was so cute," Richie says, momentarily distracted, "You're like a bunny. My little bunny man."</p><p>"On second thought, rehire Roberta," Eddie yells, from down the hall. He's already restarted his one-man mission to completely disinfect the house, on all fours with the Lysol, a rag and a bucket. "If you catch coronavirus at least I won't have to listen to you talking shit all the time."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>On the twelfth day of Eddie 'working remotely' he won't let Richie leave the house.</p><p>He's awake before Richie which is normal, but his eyes are ringed with purple and he's damp with sweat that gives away how long he's been awake cleaning, even though Richie finds him in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee.</p><p>"Have you brushed your teeth?" Eddie asks quickly.</p><p>"Uh, yeah."</p><p>"Showered?"</p><p>"Yup."</p><p>Eddie kisses him before he can say more, leaning into him heavy.</p><p>It's because he's dead on his feet, Richie realizes.</p><p>"Morning," Richie says, pecking the space between Eddie's eyes. He massages Eddie's temples, one big hand on the back of his neck, and it's enough for Eddie to go lax like a puppet.</p><p>"Mmm," Eddie replies, "Good morning."</p><p>"Might be a good night for you, sweetheart," Richie says, tracing the circles under his eyes with the pad of his thumb. "You should get some rest. I think the house is clean enough."</p><p>"Mmm," Eddie agrees, "Yeah, I'm gonna take a nap."</p><p>"Sounds like a plan," Richie says, pecking the high point of his cheek, "I'll come back and cuddle up with you after my meeting, okay?"</p><p>It's like Eddie's been shocked awake, his eyes suddenly the size of dinner plates.</p><p>"You can't go to your meeting without breakfast first," Eddie says, pushing away from Richie to head to the fridge, "I'll make you something."</p><p>"I'm good," Richie says, waving him off. "I'm already late, if I'm any later Steve will kill me. Besides I can just pick something up at Starbucks on the way-"</p><p>"Richie." Eddie slams the fridge closed with so much force it shakes, "Sit the fuck down and eat."</p><p>"Woah," Richie says, dragging out the O, "Me think baby needs that nap right about now."</p><p>"Me thinks you're a fucking idiot," Eddie snaps, dumping his coffee and cup in the sink so he can step close, and really get in Richie's face.</p><p>"Okay, what the hell is your problem?" Richie says, starting to get pissed off. "It is way too early for this bitch fit. Take a nap and call me when you're acting like a human being again. Jesus, fuck. I'll skip breakfast by the way, thanks."</p><p>Richie pushes him out of the way, though not unkindly. He knows how much bigger he is than Eddie and he makes sure never to abuse that, even when he's angry.</p><p>He only gets one shoe on before Eddie starts pulling on his arm.</p><p>"What now?" Richie asks.</p><p>"You shouldn't go to Starbucks," Eddie says, words coming out quick and anxious. "That's why I called you an idiot. That's how coronavirus is spreading the quickest you know, service workers and gatherings. They're telling people to avoid going to fast food places."</p><p>"Okay," Richie says slowly, "So I'll eat when I get home, no biggie."</p><p>He puts his other shoe on and digs in his pocket for keys. Eddie doesn't move from where he's standing, staring at Richie with wide nervous eyes.</p><p>He grabs Richie's arm again.</p><p>"Don't forget, you should be washing your hands every single time you touch shit outside. And not a little rinse either, you need to really get it in there, or there's no point. Don't shake anyone's hand and don't touch your mouth-"</p><p>"I got it!" Richie yells, "Trust me Eds, after the last few days I really, really got it. Now I love you, but I really have to go, okay? You can lecture me on proper hand washing procedure when I get back."</p><p>He gives Eddie's cheek a little pinch before opening the door.</p><p>He doesn't get far, because Eddie immediately slams it closed, pinning Richie against the door.</p><p>"Eddie-"</p><p>"Please don't leave," Eddie says, his chest heaving. And then Richie sees it. The short breathes and shaking hands, and Eddie's eyes fluttering fast so he doesn't cry. All the beginning signs of an Eddie Kaspbrak panic attack.</p><p>Eddie steps forward, pressing his head into Richie's shoulder.</p><p>"Stay here," Eddie insists, weakly, "Let me cook you breakfast."</p><p>
  <em>Well this sure as hell isn't about breakfast.</em>
</p><p>"Eddie, I think you should-" Richie is going to say,'really lie down,' but Eddie doesn't give him a chance because he starts to cry.</p><p>"Please don't go out there, Richie," Eddie cries, the words muffled by the lapel of Richie's blazer. "Please don't leave me."</p><p>"Woah, okay, okay. Shit." Richie crumples to the ground when Eddie does, holding him in his arms the entire time, until they're just two grown men curled up on the floor like children.</p><p>"I won't leave," Richie promises, overwhelmed but steady. "I got you. I won't leave, Eds."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Richie cancels his meeting with Steve, with Eddie sleeping on his chest.</p><p><em>You ridiculous little gremlin</em>, Richie thinks, as he combs his hand through Eddie's curls.</p><p>He tells Steve that Eddie is sick because he is. It's not coronavirus but hypochondria is a disease too.</p><p>It's not the first time, but Richie wishes Sonia Kaspbrak was still alive so he could show her what she's done. But then he doesn't because thank fuck that bitch isn't alive to sink even more poison into Eddie's head. Eddie's already at an 11 on this coronavirus shit, he can't even imagine what he'd be like if Sonia was still around.</p><p>It's been few hours, so Richie isn't surprised when Eddie starts to stir, letting out a soft yawn under Richie's chin.</p><p>"Hey, buddy," Richie says, voice low and hushed, "Feeling better?"</p><p>"Ugh," Eddie moans, his voice rough and croaking as he rubs at his eyes. "Yeah," he says, finally. He looks embarrassed and Richie doesn't want him to be.</p><p>"That's good," Richie says, "Do you wanna like...talk about it maybe? Or go back to sleep?"</p><p>Eddie shrugs but smiles when Richie pinches at his cheek with the arm wrapped around him, imitating what he used to do when they were kids.</p><p>"I mean this is good," Eddie says, "This is perfect, actually."</p><p>Richie kisses him on the forehead, and Eddie doesn't shove him away to ask if he's brushed his teeth or washed his hands, so he considers that a win.</p><p>"But I want to talk now," Eddie says, looking up at him, "If that's okay."</p><p>"Hey, whatever's okay with you is okay with me, baby," Richie says, "What's going on in there?" he knocks Eddie's head with his knuckle, making Eddie roll his eyes.</p><p>"Stop it," Eddie says, but he doesn't push Richie's hand away when he starts to pet the spot he knocked.</p><p>"First, I'm sorry," Eddie says, his eyes falling to Richie's collar bone so he doesn't have to look him in the eye, "I know I've been acting crazy the last few weeks and I thought it was fine because the only person I was really affecting was me, but...you're my husband. We live together. Of course it's going to affect you, fuck, I'm so fucking selfish-"</p><p>"Okay, chill out," Richie says, jostling him as he sits up. "You're not selfish, and I'm not mad. Why would I be mad? You're my husband too, remember? I already knew what you were like before we got married. Fuck, I knew what you were like when we were 13. And it's not like you were trying to be difficult for the sake of being difficult. It just gets hard up there sometimes, right?"</p><p>Richie strokes the top of Eddie's head, the pad of his thumb caressing his forehead.</p><p>"Yeah," Eddie says, his voice small, "It gets real hard sometimes, Rich."</p><p>"And you don't need to apologize for that," Richie stresses, wanting Eddie to know he's telling the truth. "Just tell me how you're feeling, Eds. That's what I'm here for."</p><p>Eddie squirms for a moment before sitting up with him, so his head is leaning into the crook of Richie's neck.</p><p>"I don't want to die," Eddie says.</p><p>"I can safely say that most people don't want to die, Eds."</p><p>"Can you shut up for two seconds!? You don't fucking get it," Eddie says, shaking his head, "I know it wasn't easy for you either but I never had a life, not between meeting you guys and finding you again. It was just my Mom, and then Myra, and work. Constant work, so I wouldn't have to see her. You know that's the reason I never took any vacation days right? Working on Christmas Eve was better than going home to her."</p><p>This is the most Eddie has ever talked about his old marriage, so Richie stays quiet.</p><p>"And then I remembered and I found you guys again and we got married and...this is the first time I've ever really lived, Richie! I'm almost 50 and the last decade are the only years I've ever really been happy. The thought of losing all that...it turned me into a crazy person," Eddie admits.</p><p>"Oh," Richie says. He wants to cry, but he doesn't want to make this all about him. "Eddie."</p><p>"And I thought that would be the worst thing, dying after finding you again. But then I realized, you could die too. And that's way scarier, Rich. That's a million times scarier and I don't know if I can -"</p><p>"Hey, calm down," Richie say, rubbing circles into Eddie's back, "Nobody's dying. Especially me. I'm in great shape and I'm...at least cleaner than I was before we got married," Richie admits. That isn't a very high bar considering Richie used to eat off used paper plates in his own house.</p><p>"You're a 44-year old man that eats Coco Pops," Eddie says, "You think McDonalds Apple Pies count as a serving of fruit."</p><p>"I mean, they're APPLE pies, aren't they?"</p><p>Eddie moves to roll off of him but Richie catches his waist before he can.</p><p>"Nope, nope, nope," Richie says, "Not leaving until we settle this."</p><p>Eddie groans but lets Richie wrestle him back on to his chest.</p><p>"So, here's what we're going to do," Richie says, "You're going to march your little ass into the bathroom and take a shower and then we're going to go to Trader Joe's and pick up whatever you think you need to make you feel better about all this."</p><p>"Richie..."</p><p>"Listen," Richie says, grabbing his face.</p><p>"You can not stay cooped up in our house forever because of a virus. That's just...not living," Richie says, "People risk dying every day, Eds. We could die driving to Trader Joe's before coronavirus even gets a chance, that doesn't mean we should never drive or do anything ever again."</p><p>Eddie doesn't say anything, looking down at his hands, that Richie is holding.</p><p>"We can buy as much Purell and masks as you want, but you can't do this. You can't just stop living because trust me, that'll kill you before coronavirus does. Do you get what I'm saying?"</p><p>"Yeah, I get it" Eddie says, "I get it, Rich. Fuck, you're right."</p><p>Eddie sighs deeply and scrunches his eyes shut, Richie rubbing circles into his palm the entire time.</p><p>When he opens his eyes he says, "We can go but...can I stay in the car this time? You know grocery stores have a lot of..."</p><p>He trails off, this time consciously trying to control the constant stream of coronavirus facts he's been ripping for the past few weeks.</p><p>"Yeah, baby," Richie says, kissing the top of his head. "That's fine. It's all fine."</p><p>After two weeks of Eddie never leaving their property, him sitting in the Trader Joe's parking lot is as good as flying to Italy, in Richie's opinion.</p><p>It's barely anything, but it's something. It's Eddie finally reentering the world again instead of letting his compulsions stop him from living.</p><p>It's a start, and that's all that matters.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am so sorry lmao.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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